A being with pale ivory skin with green-gold undertones, long, moss-green hair, pointed ears, and golden-green armor slowly regained his consciousness and opened his eyes.
The first thing he felt was the scent of grass.
Fresh, damp, and warm—the kind only his world could carry. As his vision slowly cleared, the soft gold of Greenmarch's eternal dawn greeted him.
He was lying on a wide meadow—a sea of emerald blades that glowed faintly under sunlight.
Everything looked exactly like it was supposed to, like it used to, but…
But something felt different…
His surroundings felt… heavier and… dimmer.
The sky, normally bright with two silver suns and rivers of light running through the clouds, now looked pale and bruised.
The being pushed himself up with a grunt. His long green hair was messy and tangled. His golden armor, engraved with flowing leaf patterns, was cracked in several places. His own greenish and faintly luminous blood stained his chestplate.
